


blonde mess + dalish menace

by hawluchador



Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-28 14:43:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11420145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawluchador/pseuds/hawluchador
Summary: me and kels' awful boys have a bad date with destiny so i'm writing as much happy crap as i possibly can before then oops





	1. Chapter 1

The snow crunches softly under your feet, falling silent around you. You’ve been here before. This is the last place you stay before moving into the Dales, but this year, you’re late. The snow has already arrived. The only other tracks in the blanket of white seem to belong to a bear, trailing out somewhere far ahead. You’re about to take a step forward when there’s a stirring next to you, and you’re back in the dim room, sheets a mess and the slightest crackle of electric tension on the skin of the one next to you. The fade again, then.

You remember the first time. You woke, sweating from the heat and the panic, scars on your back burning in reminder. It took second to remember that you weren’t still in the Imperium but instead here, in a safe bed. Next to you, in his sleep, a mage you are too close to fidgets, and this time, you think he’s dreaming. You don’t touch him, there’s a chance yet you’ll get shocked, but out from somewhere deep in your memory floats a melody your mother knew.

_Mala taren aravas  
Ara ma’desen melar_

You can’t ever tell how much it helps, if it really does at all, but you hum it now as an instinct more than anything. Somewhere through the second verse all the static in his hair has eased, and your thin, scarred fingers reach through the blonde, combing it back into place. You still feel a slight buzz coursing up your arm, but it’s tolerable, familiar now, a comfort in stark contrast to Tevinter.

_Ara ma’athlan vhenas_   
_Ara ma’athlan vhenas_

Some nights he wakes, but tonight, now, he doesn't. The tension in his forehead has seemed to soften, though, if only to a gentler version of the permanent scowl on his face. You, however, have learned by now that this is good enough. You pull his arm across your chest, and though you know there's a chance it might shock you yet, its weight pulls you back down into sleep again.


	2. Chapter 2

The hands against Dmitri’s head give a gentle push, and he tilts it back to keep any more blood from getting in his eye. He hadn’t started it. A rare occasion, but true this time. In fact, they’d both been minding their own business when the brute decided he didn’t like the looks of Val. Of course Dmitri had stepped in, always trying to smooth talk his way out of things. The drunken idiot had decided he liked Dmitri even less, probably something to do with the ears and the vallaslin. Next he knew, Dmitri’s head had been cracked against the bar and he was on the ground, half blind from the blood flowing from his eyebrow. They’d all been thrown out pretty quickly after that, but not before Val could make short work of him. Dmitri smiles a little at the thought; as if Val ever needed a reason to punch anybody.

“Quit grinning. That was stupid.”

This doesn’t help. Dmitri really does try to fight the smile away, but that’s never been something he’s good at. Val’s voice is rough as ever, and anyone else would think all signs were pointed to Exasperated. Granted, most were permanently staked there, but Dmitri could tell a stray one or two were aimed in a gentler direction.

“You can’t really be telling me I was at fault for this.”

With his head angled back, Dmitri can’t see Val rolling his eyes in response, but he knows it happens.

“You’ve got big mouth that you can’t keep shut.”

The grin on Dmitri’s face is back, and he can’t help himself from asking, “that’s something you’re complaining about now?”

That gets him a shove, which he absolutely deserves, and he’s toppled over, laughing to himself before sitting back up. Val’s wiping his hands clean, decidedly not looking at him.

“You can take a needle and thread to that on your own.”

Dmitri’s quick to apologize, still smiling but not as teasingly so anymore, reaching for his wrist to pull him back. This time he does catch the eye roll, along with a highly aggravated sigh, but Val turns to him again anyway, and this is how he knows.

It’s quick work for the cut to be healed under Val’s hands, but they linger a fraction of a second longer than necessary. Dmitri can see the muscle in his jaw isn’t tense like normal, and even if the looks he aims at the elf are close to withering, he isn’t avoiding eye contact. This is how he knows.

“There. Done.”

Before Val can walk away, though, Dmitri catches him by the elbow, eyes cartoonishly soft.

“You aren’t going to kiss it better?”

He isn’t. Once again, Dmitri’s shoved sideways, once again he’s laughing. As he walks away, Val’s back is to him, shaking his head. He can’t see if he’s smiling or not, but there’s the telltale red at the tips of his ears. This is how Dmitri knows.


	3. Chapter 3

You’re both a mess, but alive and breathing, heavy through lips and teeth crashing into each other like waves. Neither of you can seem to get close enough, and he’s got his hands gripped in your collar, pulling you down to his mouth. In part to keep your neck from straining and in part just to get him closer, you lift him onto the counter and your hands find their way under his shirt, up his back. You don’t realize it, but a warmth spreads from your fingertips along the jagged, gnarled streaks across his skin. In a moment, he pauses, breath caught ragged in his throat, and then you know. Your fingers curl suddenly away, falling to his waist instead. You don’t look at him.

“Sorry.”

His hands fall to your forearms, thumbs tracing small circles on your skin. He shakes his head. “No, don’t be sorry. It’s fine, I—“ He sighs, the slightest tremor in his breath. His forehead comes to rest against your own as he nods a bit. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

You don’t know what to say, so you don’t say anything, instead letting your arms curl strong around him. You can feel his head on your shoulder, his heartbeat slow, and there’s a gentle, cautious press of his lips on your neck. “I’m okay here.” It sounds almost as if he’s reminding himself, too.

But he is. You both are. It happens again, a quiet, unbidden warmth into his sides, and he smiles against your skin.

You’re both okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god bless kels for making [this happen](https://78.media.tumblr.com/281a4b906483f1ef5ac1aa94eaf3fc52/tumblr_oswk1eldkb1tvcihjo1_1280.png), i am spoilt.


End file.
